The Snapdragon of 221 Baker Street
by The Green Paintball
Summary: Sherlock said that London would fall if Mrs. Hudson ever left Baker Street, here enters Miss Hudson
1. Chapter 1

AN: As much as I love Sherlock I own nothing besides Hannah.

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It had been eight months since The Fall. Eight long months that Sherlock Holmes hid in the shadows and had danced and sliced the web Moriarty had woven around his life. Each strand had taken meticulous movements on his part, anything that would have backfired would have resulted in his discovery or the murders of the people closest to him. Excluding Mycroft of course.

His name had been cleared last week while he had been in Prague, "Sherlock's Salvation" had been plastered all over the newsprint. Lestrade and John had their names cleared and Mrs. Hudson had been unavailable for comment, her grief at the mere mention of his name sent her into repeated hysterics.

221b Baker St had been left to collect dust. John had moved into Harry's spare room before moving in with his current conquest a few weeks later, Mary. It looked to be a similar flat to the one he had shared with John, down to the layout of the bathroom. Subconscious need for familiarity was the likely cause for that decision, as well as the occasional physical outlet John had required.

Sherlock looked at the reflection before him. The local homeless shelter had been more than willing to provide him a room of his own for a few days in order for him to lay low. It would be time to return he had decided, his own disgusting need for ordinary people had taken a stubborn grasp on his psyche.

As Sherlock picked up the razor on the sink next to him he paused, taking a deep breath and putting both hands on the sink as he lowered his head- there was so much that was going to change. Mrs. Hudson would welcome him back, gladly give him the keys to his flat again, John would come around eventually, Lestrade would be happy about his return but act as if he was anything but.

She however, he thought with a shaky breath, She was the one he was unsure of.

Flashbacks within his mind began to replay at breakneck speed of the time he had spent with her. The hibiscus flowers he had left on her nightstand, the smile she gave him as he attempted to make her breakfast that ended up a pile of char, the way her hands clenched his arms as she arched into his kisses, the way her sounds of sleep shifted after they made love, the horrible singing that had been done in the shower.

The Woman and She had nothing in common besides their beauty. While Irene was manipulative, She was adoringly clumsy but could light up a room with her smile. She had never made a cross remark about him, whenever John had there was a look of pure guilt for a brief moment the next time he had seen Sherlock. She had accepted him for the _man_, the ordinary word tasted vile in his mouth, rather than admired the _freak_ everyone else had dubbed him as.

Their relationship had been so new, so brilliantly fleeting….similar to a flare in the dark country sky. It blazed through him, her heart lighting crevices that Sherlock had no idea existed within himself.

With newly determined eyes Sherlock faced himself. Long ebony tresses fell to the ground, curls bouncing back into their former shape and the ragged beard let to smooth skin before being touched gently with aftershave on his pulse points.

Sherlock hadn't had to say good-bye to the manager of the homeless estate, the key was left on the neatly made bed. The ragged junkie had left as a clean cut detective racing to return home.

* * *

Gregory Lestrade had been snoring softly on the bed as the doorbell buzzed to life rapidly. Undoubtedly the keys were forgotten behind again he said to himself before frowning. Keys were gone from the hook near the door. It was too early to be back from the shop with the groceries, not that the shopping couldn't be done by himself to ease whatever stress he could. It was bad enough that the painting and shopping had been done mostly without him, only remarking on the colors here and there.

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm, Lestrade turned the handle. "Who is it, I am quite busy," he said as his voice tapered off in a yawn before his mouth fell open again. "It can't- you can't be here- we _buried _you!"

"Well unless I am Gandalf or the second coming of Christ, here I stand Detective Inspector."

* * *

John punching him across the jaw was almost expected, Sherlock mused as he looked at the pale and shaky members of the room. Mrs. Hudson had slapped him before breaking down in his arms and he had wrapped his hands around her shaking form before guiding her down next to John.

Giving a thankful nod to Lestrade as he took a bag of frozen peas for his face, Sherlock felt the weight of their questions radiating. The first however was to both himself and Lestrade, "does she know Gregory? Does she know he is back yet? Have you seen her yet Sherlock?"

Lestrade's pupils dilated with panic as he turned to Sherlock, "have you seen her yet? I think she would have told me if she had seen you but you didn't mention if she had…" He was cut off by the creak of the front door opening again. All four members of the living room darted their gazes to each other in questioning before turning back to Sherlock. "No I haven't seen her yet, why is something the-"

"Greg be a love and lock the door for me would you? I can't manage to find my keys and I am knackered. I ran into Mrs. Lewis and she asked how long it had been since I had seen my-" She said as the front door to the flat opened up. "Toes."

Sherlock's skills of deduction had told him in eight seconds flat that there _had_ been six eggs in the canvas grocery sack that had been purchased a few weeks ago along with a open jar of peanut butter that had been dipped in with a partially eaten baguette, that it had dropped considerably in temperature outside and that Hannah Hudson was eight months, give or take a few days, along in gestation with his child.

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_Be a love and review_?


	2. What Happens Now

_Sorry it has taken so long to update, unfortunately real life has taken priority. We are going to do a bit of present life before stepping back and seeing how Hannah and Sherlock got together and eventually how Lestrade got brought in. I ask you to be patient for updates. I do my best but sometimes my Tiny Tot and my Muse don't always get along. XOXO –TGP_

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Lestrade had been laying on the bed for the past few hours as Hannah had sat on the edge. Neither had felt like switching on a lamp as the dim afternoon had turned to night, her pregnant silhouette was illuminated by the yellow-orange of the streetlight outside.

"Greg, did you…." He sat up to catch her words that seemed to drop from her trembling lips. "Did you have _any _idea he was alive? I mean I can't imagine that you wouldn't tell me but…." Lestrade sat up and moved to her side, close enough to touch but decided at the last minute to not take her hand in his larger one. At the angle he was at his heart broke at the sight before him, salty tears left tracks down her face, her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. Gently wiping her tears away he replied, "I had no idea love, I wouldn't… couldn't do that to you. Either of you." As Hannah started to gasp and the tears began to take over her whole body, Gregory Lestrade cursed Sherlock Holmes for doing this to her.

* * *

A familiar timid knocking interrupted Mycroft from the piles of reports that were on his desk. Within the time it took the pregnant body to waddle from one side of the door to the other, Mycroft had crossed the room and taken her elbow. "How are you my darling? I am so sorry for my little brother to do this to you, I can not imagine what was going through his mind. Is there anything you need or want? Biscuits or tea or in fact I think I have some of that juice you seem to crave so much around here somewhere or I can…." Mycroft took in the smiling face and tears with a look of terror before Hannah enveloped him in a sniffly hug. "I wanted to see how you were My, I can't imagine this can be easy on you either darling," Hannah said in a muffled voice.

Mycroft stood as tall as he could before pulling back so he could look down at Hannah, "of course I am alright. As it was previously said, I was more concerned about you and the little one." Patting the pregnant belly, Mycroft took her by the elbow and sat her down across from his chair before making himself a cuppa and a bottle of pineapple juice for her. "I thought caring was not an advantage Mycroft Holmes," Hannah said with a small smile before sipping gently. "It is quite the contrary when there is a new generation of Holmes residing in you Miss Hudson," he replied with an arched eyebrow.

"And where is the Detective Inspector? He normally doesn't let you out of his sight and I highly doubt he would now, especially with my brother having just returned," Mycroft said softly. Hannah didn't miss the tone of steel that seemed to come off in his words but as usual ignored it and instead sighed softly. "Back to work, he has to keep himself occupied other than mothering me and I would rather him not to kill the recently resurrected. You should have seen him My, the way he looked at me when Sherlock and I saw each other. You would have thought that I had tore his heart out with my bare hands." Mycroft leaned forward, setting his teacup to the side and taking her hands within his own, "Hannah I understand what a difficult situation we are all in here. You never asked for any of this and it is incredible that Sherlock is back. But you know how he is, and you know how Gregory is. What are you going to do? I want to be as involved as any uncle can be but just say the word and…. I will remove myself from the situation."

Hannah gave him a grateful and tearfilled smile, "It has been a long time since I entered the Holmes world Mycroft and I hope it is quite a while since I will have to leave it."

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_Up next... Where it all began. :) XOXO- TGP_


	3. Introductions

Sherlock was having a horrible day. No, not horrible. Horrible was a terrible description for a day. There is sublime, there is devastatingly ordinary. But today, ugh it might as well be as plain and boring as such a description as horrible.

There was no case, as all three had been solved this morning, no movements on Moriarty that he had been able to find, John was out doing the shopping and Mrs. Hudson was out at the train station collecting someone or other. It was all so ordinary and boring and it wasn't like he could shoot or spraypaint the wall again. Although…. No. John had already been quite cross at the 200 quid increase of rent due to his redecoration. Although he could re organize the bookshelves to a way the old masters did during the Dark Ages plagues.

* * *

Abigail Hudson was quite through with the Kings Cross station for the day. It was time for lunch and her first herbal soother for the day and she had quite a bit of packing to do still indeed. She had decided to take young Doctor Watson's advice and was packing to stay with her sister in Washington for a few months time. It had been ages since she had left London and felt the need for a bit of distance. Not that she trusted the boys above to behave. Which is why her wonderful niece was coming to stay for the time, at this, Mrs. Hudson was brought out of her musing at the sight of Hannah.

It had been ages since she had seen the young woman but it took mere moments for her to be recognized. "Auntie! It has been so long since I have seen you!" Abigail felt the tall girl wrap her arms around her and responded in kind.

"Seven years is a bit of a while yeah?" She took in the sight of her niece, too thin by the looks of her although well developed since last she had seen her, her dark hair much like her own used to be and down to her shoulders. "You look like your Mum did when she was your age, although I would never guess you were twenty-two by the way you hold yourself, you come off quite worldly for someone so young."  
Hannah let out a bark of laughter, "I appreciate that Auntie, but I will have you know I am twenty-three now." Wrapping her arm around a backpack and the other through her aunts arm, "so tell me about these boys you are going to have me be supervising, will it be interesting at least?"

* * *

"Mycroft I am far too busy to be chasing down someone with a box of uranium, I find that to be quite dull. Besides, I heard that BlueBell has gotten loose again and I must help his family locate him. You know how attached children can be to their pets," Sherlock spoke with a hint of venom in his voice. "Don't make me order you Sherlock, I will find a way to," Mycroft turned to John who had just come in from the shop down the road. "Get through to him this time, quite important."

John had dropped the bags on the kitchen and pointed to the fridge as Sherlock glanced his way, "nothing in there this time that will give me heart failure?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, "heart failure is boring John, I need something much more than that to get my mind working at all." John rolled his eyes and shrugged off his coat.

John rolled his eyes as he heard Sherlock slam his bedroom door shut and Mycroft stomp down the stairs and waited for it to slam. When it didn't he peaked out the kitchen door and saw Mrs. Hudson turn to him with wide eyes. "What in the world was that about dear? Old Mycroft isn't the way I wanted to introduce Hannah to you all, he isn't very charming I am so sorry dear," she said to someone John couldn't see. "I'm sorry but- Hannah?"

John saw a friendly face peek around the corner of the stairs, "Hello Doctor Watson, I am going to be staying below you all for a while since Auntie has decided to go on holiday, better than trying to find a flat right away for work anyway." Hannah walked around the stairs and waved with a small smile, "she said you lot upstairs couldn't be trusted alone."

John found himself laughing despite what was said, "oh thank you for that Mrs. Hudson but didn't Sherlock say that London would fall if you left Baker Street?"

Hannah turned to her aunt at the words and smiled before turning back to John, "Hudson is leaving, Hudson is coming. Alas the reign so shall continue." "That was a bit over the top dear," Mrs. Hudson said softly, barely hiding her laughter. "It felt a bit over the top didn't it? Mind if I take a tour of the place? I'm famished and could use a quick shower, there was a smelly woman in front of me on the train and I feel like I will start having cartoon-like vapors coming off me soon."

With a wave to John good-bye the elder Hudson took the younger inside.

* * *

"So Sherlock is the one I need to be concerned mostly about then?" Hannah said seriously to her aunt. After a quick order of curry had been placed and eaten, Mrs. Hudson spelled out exactly what would be needed during Hannah's time there.

"He is dear, he is always dashing about and John normally goes with him but sometimes he needs help making sure there isn't a stash of anything anywhere. It is easier with two people and I am sure you can work a lot faster than I can. He will make a good amount of noise, I don't think he keeps regular hours anymore and there is always a lovely Detective Inspector that comes 'round once in a while and requests his help."

Hannah gave her aunt a weak smile, "is he friendly at least?" Before Mrs. Hudson could respond there was several feet stomping on the stairs and banging on the door above. "Sherlock! I need you in Brighton, found another decapitation that I need you to look at." The voice sounded older and haggard but friendly, it carried down the stairs and left Mrs. Hudson rolling her eyes and gesturing her niece to the door.

Both women looked up the stairs to see DI Lestrade looking up at the ceiling and looking like he was counting to himself in order to maintain his temper. Mrs. Hudson cleared her throat and startled Lestrade out of his musings. "Sorry dear, I just wanted to introduce you to my niece who will be here for a while when I am gone on holiday."

The DI approached Hannah with a tired smile on his face. "'Ello. Sorry about the noise. When Sherlock locks the door sometimes I have to shout. Hope he won't cause you much trouble," he said with a smile and a quick run through his graying hair. Hannah smiled and stuck out her hand to shake. "Hannah Margaret Hudson. At your service." The somber detective earned a few more lines of his face when he smiled, "Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade."

"Ah Lestrade, let's go. Sorry about the door, had a few eyeballs that needed pickling," a tall and railthin man came down a few steps, just a few above everyone else. "Looking between yourself and this young thing I think that you have a relation coming to stay with you Mrs. Hudson. Recently to London by the way she dresses, bit homey to be a Londoner and smells like… train. Must have been the one o'clock at Kings Cross by the time you have arrived here. Some sort of writer or blogger or something. Mainly working with your hands, but that could also be some sort of photographer based on the smell of printing paper used mainly in large-print print shops. Plus you are wearing quite comfortable shoes which indicates that you spend a lot of time on your feet which would tell me you take more photos rather than print but you are most likely someone who refuses to let anyone touch your work from film to frame. Sorry but must dash, have a wonderful holiday Miss Hudson and Mrs. Hudson the rent check is under your mat," Sherlock said with a sneer.

Mrs. Hudson turned to Hannah with a quick smile, "I will see you when I get back dear, Hannah is staying while I am on holiday. Good luck with your decapitation!"

Sherlock looked at Mrs. Hudson's tiny frame strolling back into the house and turned to look at Hannah. "Blast!" He said as he whirled away and out the door. "Forget the Queen, God save us Detective Lestrade," Hannah said with a small laugh and gently patted him on the back as Lestrade strolled out the front door with a smile on his face.


End file.
